


Hair Cut

by orphan_account



Category: Arthur Fleck - Fandom, Joker (2019), Joker - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:14:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21665011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: I was sent this request over Tumblr: I was getting my hair cut today and while they were shampooing, I was enjoying the feeling of the water and the massage and thought “I wonder if Arthur would love this as much as I am.” So I thought maybe you could write something about how the reader is a hairdresser & Arthur comes in for a haircut that he rarely gets to do. And he really enjoys the physical touches and is all cute and blushy. And lol somehow the reader notices and wants to meet him again or spoil him with free haircuts.Okay so sorry not sorry, but I didn’t write this as a “x Reader” because I couldn’t get it quite right. Anyways this is from Arthur’s perspective (I guess?) so I hope that’s okay!!
Relationships: Arthur Fleck/Original Female Character(s), Joker/Original Character(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 61





	Hair Cut

Arthur looked at himself in the mirror.

He looked _tired_. The dark circles under his eyes looked more prominent, and he felt like he looked older than usual. He tried to make himself smile, hoping that the gesture would make his face look younger.

He scowled at the result; his eyes looked dead as his lips curled upwards.

Arthur sighed and tried to focus on the other aspects of his appearance.

He smoothed down the front of his shirt, tucking and untucking it into his pants. Arthur pursed his lips at his reflection, tapping his fingers nervously along the rim of the porcelain sink.

Looking up at his hair, he couldn’t help but laugh at the juxtaposition between his prematurely aged face and his boyish haircut.

His mother had insisted on giving him haircuts even though her shaky hands often left him uneven with too short bangs. It had been some time since her last attempt at playing cosmetologist, and his loose curls were almost starting to reach past his shoulders. 

It was always the same processes. She kept the scissors in the vanity. She’d had the pair for as long as Arthur could remember. She would sit him down on the toilet and _snip, snip_ haphazardly until enough hair had come off to seem like she had done a semblance of a good job.

Arthur leaned back looking out the bathroom door and across the hall to where his mother sat on the bed watching another news caster interview Thomas Wayne. He didn’t want to disturb her to ask her for a quick cut. And besides, he was getting rather annoyed by her lack of skill with a scissors.

Arthur let out a deep breath. He mentally calculated how much of his last paycheck he had left. “Fuck it” he said out loud, “I can’t look like this anymore.”

He poked his head into the bedroom. “Hey Mom, I’m going out, do you need anything?”

Penny looked over at him, her eyes blankly registering his presence. “No Happy, just check the mail when you come back up.”

Arthur fake smiled and nodded, not bothering to remind her that it was Sunday, and there would be no mail regardless.

___

Walking down the filthy street, Arthur kept his head down. Although he craved attention, he felt that he didn’t deserve it. Arthur wanted nothing more than to stand out from the crowd, but today, the thought of someone looking at him made him nervous and embarrassed.

He turned the corner and saw the blinking “open” sign humming in the window. Squeezing his hands tightly into his pants pockets he mustered all his confidence and pushed the shop door open.

A bell softly rang as Arthur entered the salon. It smelled like hairspray and cleaning supplies. Oldies quietly drifted over invisible speakers.

A young woman sat in one of the barber chairs. She was reading a trashy fashion magazine, her long red manicured nails mindlessly flipped through the pages. Her hair was pulled into a high slicked back ponytail.

Arthur could see her dark eyes glossing over the images, thick winged eyeliner gave her face a mysterious illusion.

She hadn’t noticed him yet. Arthur felt self-conscious about watching her. He contemplated leaving, but finally her eyes snapped up at him.

“Jesus! You been standing there long?” She asked, her voice had a hint of an accent, but Arthur couldn’t place it.

“No, not long.”

She blinked at him a few times before turning the magazine out towards him.

“What do you think of this nail color?” She asked, pointing to an advertisement.

“It’s nice.” Arthur felt his face blush. She was very pretty. Now that he was able to see her whole faced, he could see her high set cheek bones and perfectly shaped lips.

She scrunched her face back at the page before quickly shutting the magazine and standing.

“So, what to do you want?”

“Um, what?” He asked, _thinking this was a mistake, this was a mistake_.

“Like what kind of hair cut do you want?”

Arthur suppressed a laugh he felt building in his chest. He felt embarrassed, he wanted to leave. _I should have just asked Mom_ , he thought to himself. But he couldn’t bring himself to turn around. The young woman looked at him expectantly and he felt a familiar tug in his stomach. She was the first woman who wasn’t his mother to talk to him in a long time.

_She asked your opinion, she cares what you think_ , a voice in the back of his mind whispered.

She moved towards him and lead him towards the chair she had just been sitting in.

Arthur sat, feeling the warmth from her body still lingering on the seat.

She grabbed a bit of his hair, her fingernail running along the back of his neck. Arthur shivered.

“You have great hair,” She said, “very soft!”

“I don’t know what kind of haircut I want.” He admitted. “I’ve never had my hair professionally cut before.”

Her mouth popped open in shock. “You never…never cut professionally!” She brought her hands to her hips and _tsked_ at him. “Well, I guess I’ll have to give you the full salon treatment!”

Arthur blushed, and allowed himself to laugh.

Taking Arthur’s hand, she led him over to a small sink near the back of the salon. She sat him in the chair and hummed to herself while she turned the water on and checked the temperature. She pushed Arthur’s shoulders back and leaned his head into the sink.

“That feels nice.” Arthur giggled as he felt her fingers against his neck and head.

“Oh, just wait for the shampoo, you’ll love that!” She said, wiping water off his forehead. Arthur closed his eyes and felt himself blissfully smile.

She was right of course. The sensation of her nails gently rubbing against his scalp was delightful.

She would softly run her hands down the sides of his face and across his forehead too, careful to not get soap or water on him.

Arthur was in heaven; he wanted the pampering to never end. No one had ever touched him like this before. He felt completely calm as a total stranger washed his hair, an action that seemed oddly intimate to him.

But the washing did end, and Arthur was led back to the barber chair, a hot pink cape whisked around him.

The young woman began combing out his hair and Arthur wanted to sigh with pleasure. He waited in anticipation to feel the soft scrap of her nails on the back of his neck, along his ears, and hairline.

_I can’t believe I’ve been missing out on this my whole life_ , he though to himself. He watched her in the mirror, and he was fascinated by her lips blowing pink bubbles with her gum, and the furrowing of her brows when she came across a particularly difficult knot in his hair.

“Okay so, let’s talk length and style.” She said, her hands resting on his shoulders.

Arthur snapped out of his daydream trance, forcing himself to focus on what she was saying and not lovely way her mouth puckered out when she spoke.

He nodded. “I don’t care what you do, as long as it is even.” He said with a slight chuckle. She smiled too.

“Whatever you say, boss. If it’s house choice I just hope you like it!”

She began to cut Arthur’s hair. He watched as the pieces fell to the floor around him.

“So, want do you do?” She asked tugged at a lock behind his ear.

“I’m a comedian.” Arthur blurted out. “Or trying to be.” He quickly clarified.

“Oh, okay I see you!” She smiled approvingly at him. “Can you tell me a joke?”

Arthur thought for a moment. “Gotham City Public Transit.”

She gasped in mock shock before letting out a healthy laugh. Arthur watched the joy spread across her face, her smile made his heart race.

“So, he does have jokes!” She laughed to herself again. “Tell me another one.”

Arthur offered her his best material, each joke or bit elicited to the most beautiful laugh he had ever heard. She whipped a tear away from the corner of her eye. “Whew! You’re a regular joker, you know?”

Arthur smiled and blushed under her attention.

“Okay, Mr. Big Shot Comedian, you’re all done.”

Arthur’s heart sank at the thought of having to leave her presence. She made him feel warm and welcomed, and that was a rare thing to find in this awful city.

But then he looked at himself in the mirror and his eyes grew wide. _Is this really me?_ he thought to himself.

She had trimmed his hair to chin length, his soft curls framed his face. She had slicked back his hair too with a sweet-smelling gel.

Arthur looked older, but in a good way. His features looked sharped, and more defined.

“So, thoughts and feelings?” She asked brushing a few stray hairs behind his ear.

“I love it.” Arthur couldn’t believe how good he looked. He smiled up at her. “I really love it.”

She pushed the jar of gel into his hands, and explained what she did, but Arthur was barely listening, instead he was focusing on himself. He couldn’t get over how good looking he was.

As she rang him up at the cash register—charging him only for a small trim—Arthur tried to think of something witty to say to her. He nervously drummed his fingers against the side of his leg.

“Here is your receipt” She said, offering him the slip of paper between her long nails. As Arthur reached for it, she reached out and grabbed his hand. “And here is my number” she said flipping the piece of paper over.

“If you want to get your hair cut, or if you want to try out any new jokes, you call, okay?”

Arthur nodded and carefully folded the piece of paper, placing it in his pocket.

He walked out of the salon, thinking about a song only he knew, and danced down the street.


End file.
